A Game of OCD
by KillerElephants
Summary: Edited re-post. "Regina Mills is a control freak." Swan Queen, Emma Swan, Regina Mills.


A/N: Controversial title? Obviously, I'm not diagnosing Regina as having OCD, nor do I believe that OCD is something to be mocked or taken lightly. This is me merely playing on Regina's control issues (which are exaggerated to dramatic effect already, in the show) to a clearly hyperbolic level.

* * *

They're sitting in a booth at Granny's, a plate of wildly different orders in front of them. Emma watches Regina over her fries and burger as she delicately folds and cuts into the salad with her utensils, pairing it with small pieces of chicken, each equally speckled with a light layer of Granny's homemade Caesar Salad Dressing. The bottle has been placed between them, along with ketchup, their drinks (a soda for Emma and sparkling water for Regina), a salt and pepper shaker, and a small basket filled with various other sauces; Emma is planning on having a good root around in there once she's finished with her burger.

Feeling the grease over her cheeks from the massive bun – she can barely fit her mouth around it, but that doesn't mean she isn't trying – Emma chews a large mouthful of her dinner and stares across at her date. Regina is watching each careful incision into her food like a trained surgeon, and Emma can only frown at the sight. _Heaven forbid too big a piece of chicken fills her mouth and causes her cheeks to bulge_, she thinks. But, that is just Regina; that's what she's used to. Regina Mills is a control freak.

As though she's privy to the thoughts in Emma's head, Regina glances up from her meal to pierce her with a sharp look. "You're watching me eat."

Emma shrugs a little, not even bothering to swallow completely as she replies, "Your conversation skills are lacking, what d'ya want me to do?"

Regina scowls around a mouthful of chicken and salad, the Caesar sauce leaving a light sheen over her bottom lip. She reached across for her drink and Emma watches as she chews and finishes what is in her mouth before taking a sip.

"If you paid an ounce more attention to what you were shovelling into your mouth, you might actually leave the table with a clean face."

Emma wants to snort at her words, but is too caught up in the delicate fingers that are wrapped around the bubbling glass of water. She notes that it is almost directly returned to its earlier position, then sees that Regina has noticed how the former ring of water is out just-so with where the glass sits, and shifts it accordingly back into place. It makes her frown curiously through another bite of her burger and, ignoring Regina's look of disdain at her eating habits, she reaches around for her soda.

The can is cool against her bottom lip, and only a small sip is slurped into her mouth, but the noise is enough to gain Regina's attention. She parts with the can with an exaggerated '_ah_' of content and places it down a good foot out of position. Seconds later, after stealing glances of Regina's suddenly rigid, blanching fingers straining around her knife and fork, she asks, "Are you enjoying that?"

Regina nods appropriately and, as casually as she can, with Emma still devouring her burger like a ravenous animal, she places her knife down in order to once again bring her glass to her lips. When she returns it – directly in place – her fingers inconspicuously shift to Emma's soda, which she moves closer to the salt shaker, where it previously sat.

To Emma's raised eyebrows, Regina counters, "How's your burger?"

Although there's derision in her tone, Emma answers pleasantly. "Awesome. Wanna bite?" And, at the offered bun, Regina tries to steady her turning lip as she shakes her head.

Emma shrugs a _'suit yourself'_ and drops her burger back to her plate, lifting off one bun. She's sure that Regina is watching her when she reaches across for the salt, though no health-tip is given as she sprinkles it over her beef and then places it back down beside her plate.

Regina rolls her eyes in response and, as though dealing with a petulant child, reaches across for the salt.

Emma waits for her to season her own meal and, when the salt is merely placed back where it belongs, asks, "Why'd you move it?"

Regina sighs as she lowers her fork from her mouth, the chunk of chicken, drizzled in dressing, hangs in the air between them, pierced on the fine, metallic teeth of her fork. "The salt goes in the centre of the table," she answers, as though it should be common knowledge, and anyone who does not follow that rule in etiquette should be strung up with a thick rope. "Directly between the two of us."

Through another bite of her burger, feeling warm sauce smeared across her lips, Emma raises her eyebrows with her nod in a façade of fascination. Regina chooses to ignore her and goes back to her meal, head down.

The next test, as Emma has taken to calling them, comes with the ripping open of a sachet of mayonnaise. The blunder sends thick sauce splattering across the table and Emma attempts to suppress her smirk when Regina snatches a napkin from her to clean the mess herself, clearly deeming Emma incompetent. She even places the soiled napkin to the edge of the table, discreet enough, but Emma notices, with a roll of her eyes, that the scrunched paper appears to be on an equator line with the table's other accessories.

She thinks Regina knows what she's doing when she moves the pepper pot, without purpose, no more than an inch to the left. Regina returns it to position as fluidly as if she'd done it without thought.

The ketchup is next, squirted over her fries without care. She places it just out of reach of Regina and watches as she tenses with frustration across from her, jitters, even sighs. She isn't eating, Emma notes, and carefully returns the Ketchup to the middle of the table. Regina straightens it with a long exhale and returns to her meal, ignoring Emma's smirk.

From across the diner, leaning over the counter with nought much to do, Ruby watches the peculiar exchanges of the Sheriff and the mayor. She isn't quite sure what they're doing, but counts the moves as though keeping up with a game.

Salt shaker to plate. Countered by Regina's intervening fingers, returned to the centre.

Mayonnaise splatter to centre table. Deflected by napkin.

Pepper pot goes left. Quickly returned with a scowl.

Ketchup sent down table. Replaced, by Emma, after Regina's twitching becomes unbearable. Is moved back to centre.

Frowning around her headache, Ruby turns away from the peculiar pair, wondering if all meal times are as stressful. She's almost thankful when the door opens to reveal a gaggle of new customers, even if she recognises them as notorious sleazes that are stingy with their tips.

Regina ends the game, finally, by making them both aware. Emma knows she's going too far when she nudges the small basket full of sachets of sauce, but amusement feeds the game. Metal scrapes across pot as utensils are dropped. With a sigh, Regina pushes the basket back into position, her frustration showing through the careful, cautious movement more than if she would have shoved it with force.

"Will you stop that?"sShe asks, finally, glaring across at her company.

"Stop what?" Pleading innocent may not get her far, Emma thinks, but it's certainly amusing to see Regina so riled up. She's sure she sees her grind her teeth from the strain in her jawbone.

"This!" Regina falls back against the support of the booth, wiping her hands on a napkin. "You're worse than Henry." Emma smirks, doesn't speak, and Regina looks up at her in annoyance. "I know what you're doing, Ms. Swan."

_Fuck, gone too far._

"Okay," Emma sighs, grabs a napkin and wipes her face. "I'm sorry. You're just so tightly _wound_."

Regina scoffs at her words, but Emma only drops her napkin an inch out of place of the other discarded paper by the edge of the table. Just like she was expecting, Regina reaches out and quickly moves it into position, then freezes in place as she realises what she's doing. She looks up at Emma's knowing smirk with an indignant frown.

"I'm trying to keep it tidy," she defends, her posture rigid, evading Emma's gaze.

Emma nods in agreement, but tells her, "It doesn't need to be kept tidy. Not everything needs to be controlled. You're so tense, look at you."

Regina's eyes snap up. "Well, I wouldn't be _tense_ if you could hold a table manner to your name."

She sighs and, frustrated, waves over Ruby for the cheque. Emma easily shrugs the insult off, smiles at Ruby as she hurries over, tasting the argument in the air.

Emma scans the sheet, first, before Regina can make a grab for it. Regina reads it over while she pulls money from her wallet, but, of course, Emma insists on paying half – right down to the cent.

"Ready to go?" Emma asks, fishing a tip from her wallet and placing the bills down with the rest of their pay.

She sees Regina's fingers twitch, as though to pile the new notes – perfectly in line – with the others. Regina sees her watching her, however, and rolls her eyes before standing, turns her back to the table in the hopes of ignoring the mess her date has left with the bills.

Seeing the two leaving their table, Ruby heads over with a smile, which turns enthusiastically thankful when she sees the tip she's been left. "Thanks, have a good night," she calls, to which Emma returns the gesture with a smile. The waitress expects them to leave and is struck when Emma leans over the table. She's caught Regina's attentions, Ruby notes, as she purposelessly slides a salt shaker to the edge of the table, grinning up at Regina as though sharing a private joke.

"_Emma_," is ground through tight lips, and Ruby watches their exchange, bemused, as Emma laughs and snakes an arm around Regina's waist.

"Thanks, Rubes," she calls behind her as they leave, her eyes glowing with an amusement that Ruby can't help but feel eludes her. She stares back down to the table, at her tip and at the salt shaker, and then frowns at the door.

It's a strange game that they're playing, she muses, collecting the money and clearing the table, and Ruby isn't quite sure that she wants in…


End file.
